


3 Gods Walk into a Bar

by Achilles (poguschampus)



Series: Children and Gods [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Angst, Distrust, Emotions, Gen, Gods, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, JRWI (mentioned), Pain, SCU, They're All In Pain, Trauma, Unresolved Emotional Tension, rekindled friendships, slimecicle cinematic universe, traitors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29937030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poguschampus/pseuds/Achilles
Summary: Stories of those who aren't around to tell their tales.Or those who simply wish not to.A prequel, if you will, to3 Orphans and a God walk into a Bar.The stories of the Gods. Ones of family, hurt, betrayal, but most importantly, healing.
Relationships: Charlie Dalgleish & Jschlatt, Charlie Dalgleish & Phil Watson, Charlie Dalgleish/Grace Safford, Family - Relationship, Friends - Relationship, Friendship - Relationship, Jschlatt & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Children and Gods [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2170272
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	1. Hurt and Grieve but don't Suffer Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two old friends and newfound strangers talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song "Achilles Come Down" by Gang of Youths
> 
> A TW for mentions of $u!c!de/$u!c!dal thoughts.

Once, they were happy, he thinks. Maybe once.

Charlie wonders where it all went wrong. Was it when Schlatt murdered his father, which he encouraged? Was it when he was foolish enough to give away his power, even to his closest of friends? Was it when he hauled Condi, Grizzly, and him up the volcano, into death’s open arms? Was it when he let Grizz fall in?

Charlie is a lot of things. Naїve, uncivil, easily swayed. How was the power to shape the very earth bestowed upon him so easily? Even worse, how did he so easily give it up?

He could make a million and a half excuses. That his once friend used his powers against his very own friends, that he was being tricked, that he was simply blinded from the truth. But, no. He doesn’t exactly know why he did what he did, perhaps it was the desire to escape his responsibilities, maybe even pure naїvety. He just knows it wasn’t entirely the antagonist’s fault. They were all to blame.

Schlatt isn’t a good person. He wouldn’t go as far as to say he was the farthest thing from it, but he was a close sixth, maybe even fifth. He tortured his friends for his own sick amusement, he seized power over the land of the gods, he even cheated death, then refused to bring back their own friend when he was the one who cursed him.

Charlie was so angry, back then. He watched as his friend’s body melted into the lava and then rose once more, he was forced to kill one of his best friends with his own two hands after he refused to die. All because of Schlatt. The closest thing he had to family, ripping away his power to burst the world at the seams.

Even now, he’s still furious. He’s lost so many people. Grace, Grizzly, Kristen, Phil. The ones who aren’t dead completely separated from the gods, all from Schlatt’s wrongdoings. A flower of evil spreading his legacy even long after his supposed death.

Yet now, the flower sits beside him on the edge of a cliff face, wilted and drowning in his own tears, cracked goat horns covered with dirty gold adornments, embedded with gems he doesn’t deserve.

He looks at Charlie, the expression blurred by the neverending stream of tears in his eyes. It’s not much to look at, anyway. Just a simple, reassuring smile below haunted green eyes that have seen far too much.

“Why are you here? I don’t deserve this.” The slightly too big adornments just barely clank against bone as he tilts his head.

“You don’t.” Charlie shrugs, turning to look at his once friend, who has tears filling his still unkind red eyes.

It’s pathetic, Charlie thinks, yet he doesn’t move. He doesn’t know why he’s still sitting with the one who caused him and so many others so much suffering. He gets no enjoyment out of watching this traitor shed ugly tears, no, he’s not like him. So why? 

It’s quiet, save for the wind blowing away the now stranger’s tears and unknowingly taking Charlie’s thoughts along with them. “We were friends, once. Maybe that’s why.”

“Then you’re a fool.” Dark red eyes stare into Charlie’s very being. “A naїve fool who doesn’t bother to stop and look at the world crash and burn around him.”

Despite the harsh words, Charlie laughs louder than he has in a long while. “Perhaps.” He wipes a tear from his eye, smiling. “And perhaps that’s why I was named the first of the Five Fools.”

“Yeah, Br’aad?” Charlie laughs again at the use of his old name, long forgotten by the mortals whose ears once rung with it. How different he was, back then. Who was their band of fools? Condi, Bizly, Grizzly, Wheatie, and him? It leaves a pang in his chest remembering the good times while two of them aren’t around to accompany him in it.

“Do you take joy in my tears?” Suddenly gold once again clanks against bone. “Should I bottle them up for you so you can savor every drop?”

“Even then, would it make up for what you’ve done? I think not. But I’m not like you, Schlatt. I don’t revel in your misery.” Charlie stares deep into his past friend’s red, unblinking eyes.

“Then why do you torture me so? Just kill me and get it over with.”

“My magic has not been returned to me just yet.” Charlie shrugs. “Besides, I wouldn’t be able to kill you even if I tried.”

“Have you really tried, though?” A mop of brown hair is left in a head’s wake as the undead buries his face into his knees.

“You crossed the Angel of Death not once, but twice. It’s a fitting curse for such an immense crime.”

“Have you come to mock me?” Red eyes glare into green.

Mocking is the kindest punishment Charlie could deal, given the two’s history. Yet, somewhere, somehow, there’s just an inch of pity which resides in the hole his old friend used to fill in his heart. “I  _ loathe  _ you, Jschlatt, previous god of power. I will always hold resentment for what you’ve done. Yet…”

Everything Charlie has said has been true. Nothing Schlatt can do will return the love of his life to him. Nothing he can do will return three of his closest friends. Nothing he can do will change what he did in the past. Yet…

“Unexpectedly, second chances seem very appealing right now.” He decides that’s it. He knows his friend was a good person, once. If he could change, then, he can change now. He’s lost so many loved ones, and the possibility of mending broken bonds… well, that’s just too tempting for him not to pass up.

“I don’t need your pity.”

“Great, because you’re not getting any here.” Charlie stares back at his acquaintance. “Not yet.”

“I won’t need it, ever. Just give up on me.”

“Tempting, but I think I’ll pass.” Charlie smirks. He takes a gold covering off from horn and passes it back and forth between his hands. His old friend doesn’t flinch when his bloodied and cracked horn is revealed to the chilled air. He merely stares.

“I’ll be honest.” Charlie lays down the gold covering on the ground. “I don’t know why I’m doing this. I guess you could say we’re in similar positions right now.” He shrugs. They’re both powerless, humans inhabiting the bodies of gods as if their status wasn’t given to them by birthright. Perhaps it wasn’t. Peace feels nice, even if it’ll only last a heartbeat before his powers are restored. Charlie wonders what would happen if he jumped off the cliff, more out of curiosity than anything else. Has his body changed to match his status to nothing more than a mortal?

Red eyes follow green down to the ground. He knows what’ll happen when he jumps. He’s tried.

Two old friends stare down a cliff face, remembering. Unspoken words reach their throats then die on their lips. Perhaps silence is more appropriate, now. Charlie remembers long ago. He remembers Grizzly, Condi, Bizly, Grace, Schlatt, Kristen, and Phil. He remembers laughing and joking. He remembers sadness and crying, while still being comforted by those closest. He remembers stifling summer evenings and freezing winter nights, all made more bearable by the people sitting around him.

The wind seems to swirl around the two strangers, and Charlie swears he can feel a pair of hands rest upon his shoulders, a pair of arms wrapped around his torso, an elbow leaning on his head. When he looks back it’s empty, save for the forest behind him. He can no longer sense the wildlife. The wind blows normally through his hair, if not a tad stronger than before. It’s comforting, like they’re still there. 

If his companion noticed the abnormality, he doesn’t show it. Perhaps he has enough ghosts following him as it is. Perhaps it’s become easier to simply forget that they’re there. Even now he still stares down the cliff, unmoving, unblinking.

“Are you going to do something, or are you just gonna wallow in your own self-pity?” Charlie chuckles. “Don’t worry, I’ve got enough of that to go around.” He stands, dusting the dirt off the back of his clothing. He extends a hand towards the man still staring downwards. He can’t even imagine what goes on in that mind. He stopped trying long ago. 

Only one gold covering clinks gently as the man wearing them looks up at the hand. He reaches out, but not to grab it. He instead opts to pick up the dirty gold and hurl it as far as he can down the cliff. It lands with a gut wrenching, high pitched  _ thunk  _ that even seems to startle him for a moment. He goes to slip off the other one and looks back when Charlie taps him on the shoulder, extending a hand once again, but it’s not meant for healing. 

“If I may.” Icy cold gold is placed into his hand. He barely gives it a second’s glance before he too throws it off the cliff. It goes further than Schlatt’s and lands with the same piercing screech.

The two old friends share a laugh for the first time in years.

“Never liked those old shits anyway.” With a grunt, Schlatt helps himself off the edge and tentatively places a finger on his horns. He flinches, but he smiles. “Look, Charlie, I’m sorry.” He stares into his old friend’s wide, bright green eyes, the pain he’s caused evident deep within.

“I don’t forgive you.” Charlie smiles tentatively. “But it’s a start.” He holds out another hand. “Maybe not enemies, for now.”

Schlatt takes the hand and shakes it without saying a word.

Maybe for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of short compared to what I usually write, but not much was needed to be said, I think.
> 
> First time trying out this style of writing. The rest of the stories will be written similarly, so we'll see how that goes.


	2. See how the Most Dangerous Thing is to Love / How you will Heal and You'll Rise Above

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stories of loneliness and family, forgotten to time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's lore time baby! Literally almost made myself cry writing this so you know it's good
> 
> Chapter title from the song "Achilles Come Down" by Gang of Youths

As you step into the remains of a burnt and charred building, the faint scent of scorched flesh and charcoal fills your nostrils. It’s almost nauseating. You keep going, though, and find a surprisingly in-tact bookshelf. You flip it over, and the wood breaks to reveal ash. But, you find one book shines out of the pile of grey and black.

It’s not brand new, but it looks well-used and well cared for, and definitely not burnt. You wonder how it got here.

As you pick up the book, and you find it reeks of magic. No wonder it’s the only thing in good condition. You look at the spine and see the ripped and torn leather, almost as if someone stuffed extra pages inside its already tight space. As you flip through the book, though, most of the pages are burnt off, and some are even torn, as if someone deliberately went through the pages and burnt them one by one, ripping out the ones they found enjoyable.

As you scan through the pages you find that it’s a diary. Well, you’ve got nothing better to do. You walk out of the charred foundations of the building and sit in what you assume was once a garden. You pull out a torch and stick it into the dry dirt, then begin reading.

\--------

**December 13th, 1824**

This is the first time I’m trying to write a journal. I thought it’d be interesting to look back on how far I’ve come for however long I keep it. Ha, like I need a reminder of how long I’ve lived. I still hope common is still widely used in the next few decades, in case I lose this and someone stumbles upon it. These characters are much kinder on the wrists than galactic is, at least. This old man needs a break.

I’m currently picking up fighting again. Since I last tried it out, there have been a lot of new techniques I need to learn. It’s been almost 100 years since I’ve last held a weapon, so needless to say I’m going to be training for a while. At least it’s something to keep me occupied, I guess.

Here. I’ll make a bet with myself. Future Philza, if you can learn every new technique you’ve missed out on in under 80 years, you get bragging rights against me, and everyone else, I guess.

There’s an ocean monument nearby. Gonna go check that out to see if I can warm myself up before training. Maybe I’ll drain this one, too. As long as it’s not too close to a village. You can never guess where they’ll pop up these days.

\- Philza

_23/7/1915 edit: It took me 91 years. Well played, past me. Well played indeed._

_Could you teach me some cool fighting moves, dad?_

_How did you find this? Also, maybe when you’re older, Techno._

_Bruuuuuh._

_(I found it by looking through your old stuff, by the way. Sorry for snooping.)_

  
  


**February 14th, 1830**

I’ve recently rekindled my love for fishing through the thirst for more knowledge. I’ve also kindled a half-assed enjoyment for papermaking, since continuously buying new paper for this book is getting pretty expensive. Maybe I should stop writing in it every day. Nah, I can do what I want.

I tried to go swimming today, too. It was quite difficult. These wings aren’t doing me any favors except flying and being a total nuisance. I could always put them away, I guess. But that requires too much energy that I don’t want to waste. Perhaps I’ll just make them smaller. Magic isn’t the kindest on the senses, though, so maybe I’ll pass. Maybe honing my magic will be the next thing on my to-do list.

Went to visit Kristen’s grave, too. That’s less chipper, though, isn’t it? I brought her roses and cleaned off the stone a bit. It was warm, like her hugs. Sometimes the forest seems a little livelier while I’m there and it feels like her. I’m in control of that, though, aren’t I?

~~I could’ve sworn I saw Charlie running through the forest with Schlatt. My mind is playing tricks on me again. I don’t miss them. I don’t.~~

In livelier news, met some very friendly folk at a local village today. I needed to get a new cloak so they sold me one for 1 gold, after a bit of bargaining. It’s quite nice, too. Maybe I’ll keep this one in better shape than the last. It was kind of fun burning the old one, though.

\- Philza

_What does the crossed out part say?_

_Nothing you need to worry about, Tommy. Remember to mark your notes, though. - Phil_

_Oh, sorry! -_ ~~_Tomy_ ~~ _Tommy_

  
  
  


**March 1st, 1859**

Happy birthday, me! You’re still older than you can count. Hm. Maybe I should try counting. That’d be an arduous way to spend the next week, though, even if I could remember that far back. Even us gods start to lose things, huh? I wonder what a senile god would be like. Up there, they called me senile, sometimes. Ha. Maybe I am, I wouldn’t know.

...

Never. Philza Minecraft does not get “old”, no matter what anyone says. I’ll stay young for as long as I can manage.

That being said, spending most of my life travelling has taken its toll, though. Maybe one day I’ll settle down in a cozy cabin or maybe even a bustling mansion. Nah, that doesn’t sound like me, I’d take the former any day.

Even so, settling down doesn’t sound fun right now. It doesn’t even sound like an option, actually. I’ll keep exploring and keep learning, no matter what tries to hold me down I’ll keep getting back up and keep learning more. It’s all I know how to do, after all.

\- Philza

_Well that aged poorly. Welcome to Technoblade and Wilbur town,_ ~~_popolaton_~~ _population: us. - Wilbur_

_What about me? - Tommy_

_You too, I guess. - Wilbur_

_Hey! - Tommy_

_If you two don’t stop shouting in the living room I’m taking this book away. - Phil_

_Sorry, dad. - Wilbur and Tommy’s_ ~~_sinseres_~~ _sincerest apologies_

  
  


**October 13th, 1875**

It’s been quiet recently. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it once in a while, but every village I go to seems to be empty and abandoned. There's even some rubble in what I assume was once a church. The smell of rotting flesh seems to follow me no matter what village I go to, but there’s no bodies to be found.

It’s my job to take care of the dead and I can’t even find any bodies. (I guess I’ve neglected my job for a while, though. Maybe that’s why)

Even the larger villages, the ones surrounding grandiose castles and are in turn surrounded by walls, seem to be on edge. I’ve heard from some locals that there’s been a certain kingdom ransacking smaller villages so they have more people in their army, and they’ve been working their way up to larger ones. I’ll have to go check that out.

Perhaps it’s time to topple another empire. I wonder what makes mortals think they deserve power over one another?

\- Philza

  
  


**December 13th, 1875**

Today marks another year where I’ve kept this journal in shape, surprisingly. Too bad December 13th is a pretty uneventful day. I’ve been using so much paper that it was tearing at the seams, even with my magical enhancement, so I opted to just fully enchant it instead. Took a lot of energy at the moment, but I’m glad I did.

In other news, I went to pay a visit to the kingdom that’s been conquering all the villages and introduced myself as a god. I’ve decided that I will destroy this kingdom from the inside out. It takes a lot longer than just simply demolishing it, but doing it this way is more fun. Besides, I’ve got time.

I introduced myself as the God of Life since I don’t think they’d take too kindly knowing I’m also God of Death (sorry, Kristen. I hope you’re fine with me using your title). At least, I’m not fully lying. I’ll have plenty of time for that later. I told them I wished to aid them in their quest and they ate it right up. I wonder if mortals ever bother to fact check things.

They’ve given me a spacious bedroom and told me I could ask for whatever I wished, and they would provide. Who knew getting in could be so easy? I was doing it the hard way before. Climbing up the ranks was such a tedious chore.

I’ll be pretty busy, so I’ll update once something eventful happens.

\- Philza

_Governments sound like they suck. - Techno_

_Do you want to learn about a little something called anarchy, Techno? - Phil_

_I’m interested. - Techno_

  
  


**⋮ᖋリ⚍ᖋ∷॥ ᓝᒣ⍑․⎽ ᒜḃ⌉ō**

╎‾⍊ᒷ ᕊᒷᒷリ ⍑ᖋ∷↸ ᖋᒣ ∴ᒍ∷·ǀ· ϟ╎リᔮᒷ ᒣ⍑ᒷ |:ᖋϟᒣ ᒣ╎ᒲᒷ ╎‾⍊ᒷ ∴∷╎ᒣᒣᒷリ ╎リ ᒣ⍑╎ϟ ⋮ᒍ⚍∷リᖋ|:. ᒣ⍑ᒷ॥ ⎓ᒍ⚍リ↸ ᒲᒷ ∴∷╎ᒣ╎リ┤ ╎リ ╎ᒣ ϟᒍ ╎ ⍑ᖋ⍊ᒷ ᒣᒍ ∴∷╎ᒣᒷ ╎リ ┤ᖋ|:ᖋᔮᒣ╎ᔮ ⎓ᒍ∷ ᒣ⍑ᒷ ᒣ╎ᒲᒷ ᕊᒷ╎リ┤. ϟᒍ ᒣᒍ ∴⍑ᒍᒷ⍊ᒷ∷ ⎓╎リ↸ϟ ᒣ⍑╎ϟ․⎽ ᑕ╎ ·ǀ·リᒍ∴ ╎‾|:|: |:ᒍϟᒷ ╎ᒣ ᒷ⍊ᒷリᒣ⚍ᖋ|:|:॥ᑐ ╎ ⍑ᒍi!ᒷ ॥ᒍ⚍ ⚍リ↸ᒷ∷ϟᒣᖋリ↸.

╎ ⍑ᖋ↸ ᕊᒷ ⍑ᒷᖋ∷╎リ┤ ∷⚍ᒲᒍ∷ϟ ᒍ⎓ ᖋ ∷ᒷᕊᒷ|: ᔮᖋᒲi! ϟᒍᒲᒷ∴⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ ╎リ ᒣ⍑ᒷ ᒣ⚍リリᒷ|:ϟ. ╎ i!ᖋ╎↸ ᒣ⍑ᒷᒲ ᖋ ⍊╎ϟ╎ᒣ ᖋリ↸ ᒣᒍ|:↸ ᒣ⍑ᒷᒲ ╎ ∴ᒍ⚍|:↸ ⍑ᒷ|:i! ╎リ ϟᒷᔮ∷ᒷᒣ. ᒣ⍑ᒷ॥ ∴ᒷ∷ᒷ ϟ·ǀ·ᒷi!ᒣ╎ᔮᖋ|:․⎽ ᕊ⚍ᒣ ᖋ┤∷ᒷᒷ↸ ᒷ⍊ᒷリᒣ⚍ᖋ|:|:॥. ᖋᒣ |:ᒷᖋϟᒣ ᒣ⍑ᒷϟᒷ ᒲᒍ∷ᒣᖋ|:ϟ ᖋ∷ᒷ ϟᒲᖋ∷ᒣᒷ∷ ᒣ⍑ᖋリ ᒣ⍑ᒷ ᒍリᒷϟ ᖋᒣ ᒣ⍑ᒷ i!ᖋ|:ᖋᔮᒷ.

ᒲᖋ॥ᕊᒷ リᒍᒣ․⎽ ϟ╎リᔮᒷ ᒣ⍑ᒷ॥ ᖋ|:|:ᒍ∴ᒷ↸ ᒲᒷ ᒣᒍ ⍑ᒷ|:i! ᒣ⍑ᒷᒲ.

╎‾⍊ᒷ ᕊᒷᒷリ ┤ᖋᒣ⍑ᒷ∷╎リ┤ ᒣ∷ᒍᒍi!ϟ ⎓ᒍ∷ ᒣ⍑ᒷ ∷ᒷᕊᒷ|:|:╎ᒍリ ᖋリ↸ ᔮᖋ⚍ϟ╎リ┤ ↸╎ϟᒣ∷⚍ϟᒣ ᖋᒲᒍリ┤ ᒣ⍑ᒷ i!ᖋ|:ᖋᔮᒷ. ╎‾|:|: ϟ·ǀ·╎i! ᒍ⍊ᒷ∷ ᒣ⍑ᒷ ↸ᒷᒣᖋ╎|:ϟ ᕊ⚍ᒣ ᒍリᒷ ᒍ⎓ ᒣ⍑ᒷ ᒲᒍ∷ᒷ ᒣ∷ᒍ⚍ᕊ|:ᒷϟᒍᒲᒷ ⍑ᒷᖋ↸ ᖋ↸⍊╎ϟᒍ∷ϟ ᒣᒍ ᒣ⍑ᒷ ·ǀ·╎リ┤ ╎ϟ リᒍ∴ ↸ᒷᖋ↸. ∴⍑ᒍᒍi!ϟ.

\- i!⍑╎|:∩ᖋ

_Dad, this page makes no sense. Your handwriting was really bad. - Wilbur_

  
  


**October 3rd, 1880**

Christ, I think I got arthritis from writing in galactic for so long. But, we finally did it. The empire was toppled, people returned to their villages (although I have no clue why they’d want to), and I’m finally free once again. Longest 5 years of my fucking life. And I’ve lived a _long_ time.

I visited Kristen’s grave to celebrate with her, since I haven’t had the chance to with everything happening. Even if it is so incredibly inconsequential in the long run, I needed to act like it was important. I brought some flowers and champagne, then poured some to her as well. Kind of depressing, honestly.

While I was on The Isle I visited Grace and Grizzly’s grave, as well. They were quite well-cared for, no doubt Charlie’s doing. I suppose I could’ve visited him, but… no. I couldn’t. I gave each of them a flower and left. I couldn’t find the right words to say. I doubt even if I did they’d mean anything.

As I left Condi passed by me. We exchanged a few words but I left quickly after. I couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes.

I’ve made a quick campsite outside of a village far from the kingdom, I’m gonna start work on a house Tomorrow. I think I’ve had enough politics for this century. There’s an ocean about a ten minute flight away from here, so I’m going to continue to adventure the world of the sea. Although my thirst for knowledge is great, my uncanny ability to get easily distracted is greater.

\- Philza

_Rubbed off on Tommy. - Techno_

_Agreed. - Wilbur_

_Hey! - Tommy_

\--------

After that page, it seems many of them in between were either burnt or ripped off. There’s now only a few pages left of what looks like the once filled to the brim notebook. There’s a note at the top of the first page, this one in different handwriting than the notes you’ve seen previously.

\--------

_I took the courtesy of keeping the major pages about your sons. I may have killed you, but I’m not a monster. You’re welcome, Phil. :)_

**January 1st, 2003**

Happy New Year! I can’t believe how much time has passed since I first wrote in this. Being in the 2000s is still a crazy thought, even after 3 years. I thought humans would’ve died out by now, honestly. I guess Kristen did a good job. (Thanks for letting me do mine, hun. Even if I neglect it ~~sometimes~~ most of the time)

In other news, I found two children in the forest I’ve set up a house in. They seemed to be twins, around the age of five. I told them I was going to take them back into the village, to which they protested greatly (fucking hell, I hate kids. So loud). One of them was quieter, but much more physical, and the other just screamed. Eventually, I managed to convince them to go to the nearby village before they got eaten by mobs. Yeah, I’m not above threatening kids if they’re annoying.

I wonder where those two’s parents are. I never plan on having kids, but if I did I wouldn’t just let them run around the forest like that, especially since it’s relatively sheltered from the sun. Practically a breeding ground for mobs. Ew, why do I live here?

\- Philza

_You thought we were annoying?! - Techno and Wilbur_

_Haha… - Phil_

_When I looked for this I thought it was gonna be a love at first sight. But noooooo. - Techno_

_We need to find you better books. - Phil_

  
  


**January 2nd, 2003**

The kids came back today, this time at sundown. I was walking back from the village as quickly as possible so I wouldn’t be trapped out there at night. When I arrived at my house, the first thing I noticed was two children sitting out on my front porch, just picking at the grass and talking nonchalantly.

I asked them what they were doing here and they told me they had no where else to go. I told them to go back to the village and they said they didn’t like it there. I asked them how long they had been waiting and they said not long, that they had waited until sundown so I wouldn’t say no. The little shits.

I argued with them for a bit, but now I’m here, with them in my bedroom and me on the couch. Writing this stupid journal entry. They told me their names were Technoblade and Wilbur. (I honestly can’t tell them apart. It doesn’t matter, anyway)

In all my eons of existence would I ever thought that I’d be this much of a pushover.

Whatever, I’ll just drop them off in the morning. I’ll need the energy to create a barrier around my house.

\- Philza

_2/1/2004: Happy frst new birthday dad!_

_2/1/2005: Happy second new birthday!_

_2/1/2006: Happy third new birthday!_

_2/1/2007: Hapi forth niw burtday ! ( <\---- sorry, we let Tommy try to write that one.) _

_Haha, he thought you were annoying. - Tommy_

_Wait until you get to your later pages,_ ~~_little shit_ ~~ _Tommy. - Phil_

_Buuusted. - Wilbur_

_2/1/2008: Happy fifth new birthday, dad! - TOMMY, Techno, Wilbur_

_2/1/2009: Happy sixth new birthday! -_ ~~_BIG MAN Tommy BIG MAN_ ~~ _Tommy (Techno didn’t let me write big man ): <), Techno, Wilbur _

  
  


**January 3rd, 2003**

This morning I woke up to the children sleeping in front of the couch on the floor, almost right in front of my face. I picked them up and moved them to the bedroom again, since I know from experience that the floor is one of the least comfortable places to sleep on. I don’t care about them that much, though.

I tried my hand at pancakes, as well. I mean, I didn’t burn the house down, but they didn’t turn out good, either. I had to open the windows to waft out the smell of smoke, which woke Wilbur and Technoblade up. I was about to throw them away when they stopped me and told me they’d eat them (were they really that hungry?). Of course, I told them no and just made soup.

While we were eating they told me a bit about themselves. They were identical twins, they were five (two points to me) and that they had escaped the orphanage because it treated them like shit. The bare minimum for food and water, and some days even less, cramped bedrooms and once-a-month showers. Jeez.

I didn’t notice it before, but they had brought small bags with a few items each. No food, just sentimentals. Technoblade pulled out his favorite book, _“The Art of War”_ (gods, do they have no children’s books at an orphanage?) and Wilbur pulled out a poorly crafted figurine made out of sticks, the person represented holding what seems to be a guitar. He said he sometimes took the guitar that the workers used and messed with it because it sounded nice, but he couldn’t bring it with him because it’d be too heavy.

I can’t believe I said what I did after they were finished with their little show-and-tell. I offered for them to stay with me. It’ll just be for a little while, only up until I can find them proper parents (I’m not exactly the most deserving of that role). ~~The smiles on their faces might’ve just been a little worth it, though. I can’t say I haven’t gotten just the slightest bit attached.~~

  
  


\- Philza

_Look, Techno! He loves us! - Wilbur_

_Maybe just a little. - Phil_

  
  


**March 1st, 2003**

This birthday was much more hectic than the ones I’ve had in centuries. Honestly, it wasn’t unwelcome. Maybe I’ll mark this as my 1st birthday, since these kids have felt like a new start. Maybe I’ll mark January 2nd as my new birthday, haha. It’ll be easier to count, then.

The boys got up bright and early today and tried to make me something, but ended up just picking flowers out of my garden and giving them to me, instead. I don’t mind, though. I appreciate the gesture.

It felt so familiar, so right now I’m taking a moment to reminisce on ~~home~~ back then. I never noticed how brightly the stars shine before now. Maybe it has something to do with Techno and Wilbur. Wait, I think I see them waving at me.

\- Philza

Dad flew us up onto the roof to watch the stars and let us write in this journal! You can’t see it, but it’s soooooo big. Techno was scarred to open it because he thought it’d fall apart when he touched it. (I did not.) (He totally did)

\- Wilbur

Dad’s talking about his adventers right now. When I’m older, I want to be an adventerer like him. He says it’s dangerus, but one day I know I’ll become stronger and then I’ll go on all sorts of adventers like he has, and then I’ll bring everything I find back to my family. Dad says maybe one day. I know it’s defenetely one day.

\- Techno

  
  


**July 23rd, 2003**

Today is Wilbur and Techno’s birthday! I can’t believe they’re turning six already. It’s only been 7 months, but it’s felt like an eternity and only a moment at the same time. I’ve learned so much from them that I didn’t even know was possible. Perhaps my objective thirst for knowledge has blinded me from all other kinds.

This is a short entry because I want to spend as much time with them as possible today. We’re going to get some new things for them. (each under 10 gold, of course. I’m not made of money)

\- Philza

  
  


**August 30th, 2004**

I finally decided that they were old enough to know, so I told Wilbur and Techno that I’m a God. They were shocked (obviously) but they took it pretty well. At least I hope. I know they’re smart kids and I know they’re capable of hiding their emotions. I let them chat it out in their room while I write this in mine. I just hope they’re okay with it.

I’m debating on whether to take them to The Isle or not to visit Kristen and the others. I’ll have to make sure there’s no one around at that time, though. This is probably a lot on them, though, so maybe another day. I don’t call myself their dad, but I wonder if she would’ve called herself their mom? I bet she would’ve.

Ha, if she were here I wouldn’t even have them. It was mostly my loneliness that led me to taking them in, not out of some act of pure kindness. I don’t even think I’m capable of that anymore. Or perhaps I was never capable.

If I’m incapable of kindness, at least I’m not alone. Maybe I deserve to be, but I’m not. Who am I to judge fate?

\- Philza

  
  


**October 18th, 2004**

The boys went out on their own today wielding sticks like swords and came back with a crying baby in their hands. I asked where they found him and they led me to a box with a blanket and a note inside. I’ve attached it here:

_To whoever finds my boy, please tell him I’m sorry for everything. I hope you take good care of him. By the time I’ve placed this box down I’ll be long gone from this plane of existence. I can only pray the Angel of Death opens me with welcome arms._

_His name is Tommy and he was born on April 9th, 2003. I hope he gets to celebrate his birthdays, wherever he ends up._

_I’ve heard of two boys from the orphanage going missing a few months ago and many thought they were killed by mobs, but then one day two cloaked children appeared with a cloaked man. They seemed to be happy. To the cloaked man, I hope it’s you who found my Tommy. I haven’t the slightest clue why, but I know you’re trustworthy._

_In this box is a compass and a letter. Please give the letter to him when he turns 18. Let him keep the compass._

_To my Tommy:_

_I love you, and I’m sorry._

_\- Your mother_

What’s up with me and finding children in the forest? I’m sure Tommy’s mother had good intentions but a 1 year old isn’t going to hold up well out here. He’s lucky he wasn’t killed. I took him inside and got him cleaned up, and the boys seem to be doting over him already.

Looks like I’ve got another child on my hands.

\- Philza

_What’s the letter? I wanna read it! - Tommy_

_18, Tommy. - Phil_

_That’s so far away! - Tommy_

_Years go by faster than you’d think. - Phil_

  
  


**February 24th, 2008**

I got a threat today. I’m not prepared. I got careless and soft, and now I'm paying for it.

I don’t know which god it was from, but I could feel their immense power even through the message. I need to keep my sons safe, under any circumstances.

I’m going to train for the next few days and visit my friends’ graves. I have a feeling I’ll be joining them soon. Sorry for the short entry, I need to prepare. Perhaps I’ll make the boys’ favorite foods today, just in case.

\- Philza

  
  


**February 25th, 2008 (My final day)**

He’s letting me write one more message in this book before he kills me. He’s given me as much time as I want, an almost laughable amount of generosity from such a horrible creature. I’d find humor in it if I didn’t feel anything but pain.

I had been wanting this release for so long, but when it finally comes I’m so scared. I’m scared of what I’ve cultivated for eons upon eons. Perhaps this is my punishment for those years of bad deeds. How fitting.

Whoever found this book, you already knew my fate, didn’t you? You knew and continued to read, and I thank you for that. It’s no fun knowing the ending before you even read the start, but you watched a small portion of my life unfold in front of you. Thank you for carrying on my legacy.

To Techno:

I watched as he cursed you. I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything more than negate the effects only a little. Please know you are not a monster, no matter how many times your brain tells yourself that. I know I promised to teach you more fighting techniques, but maybe we can do that wherever we go after death. I know you’ll become a great adventurer and warrior some day, and I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll surpass even me eventually. I love you.

To Wilbur:

I hope you’re still able to sing long after I’m gone. I know how you get when you’re upset, and I don’t want you to completely give up all hope because of me and my lack of foresight. I hope every time you look at the stars you think of me, because I’ll be there, watching and cheering you on. Your guitar and your voice was always so beautiful, even at such a young age. I love you.

To Tommy:

I’m sorry I was never able to give you your mother’s letter. I’m sorry I wasn’t even able to watch you grow into your double digits. Even if you weren’t with me for as long as Techno and Wilbur, I care about you just as much as them. Don’t stop being yourself. Keep being loud and proud, and keep continuing to make others happy. I know you made me happy. I love you.

To all my sons:

Never in a day in my life have I regretted finding you three. I don't regret becoming careless, foolish, even possibly naïve, all so I could take care of you, free from any burden. I love you all more than the Universe itself. I never thought I was capable of such love until I met you three. I hope you can all continue fighting, but not against each other. I love you.

~~For the final time,~~

Until we meet again,

\- Philza

\--------

As you read off the final page you remember something. It’s March 1st.

You rip a page out of your notebook and scribble a few words onto it, placing Philza’s journal over the pile of ash, placing your note on top. _Happy Birthday, Philza._

As you walk away from centuries worth of lost stories you feel the wind pick up around you. Your note flies into the air and is carried off into the distance and you feel two pairs of icy cold hands rest on your shoulders.

You look around, and there’s no one. “Happy birthday, Phil.”

The wind howls in acknowledgement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'know how I said all the stories would be in the first chapter's style? Yeah.......
> 
> I'm not sure why this chapter was so long, other than I just had a lot I wanted to write to try and express Phil's character the best I can, since y'know, he's not gonna get a lot in the main story
> 
> Made a few of the bits 2nd person(???) because I wanted it to feel like it was you stumbling upon the book, not just some random nobody. Makes it more personal, I think
> 
> If something's misspelled, don't worry, it's supposed to be


End file.
